


The Flies in the Sky

by tonboli



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deathfic, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Gore, No Spoilers, Zombies, au-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonboli/pseuds/tonboli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all they’ve been through of course it has to be a freaking zombie apocalypse that brings everything to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flies in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored. And I had this stupid stomach ache again. And I couldn’t sleep. Also, my dash was full of Sterek. So I started watching teen wolf, and thanks to tumblr and youtube and some brilliant fanfics I’ve read in the last couple of days I am obsessed with this pairing!! I haven’t written anything in ages and English is not my mother tongue so please don’t be too hard on me as I have yet to find a beta-reader who puts up with me. Partly inspired by the song ‘My body’s a Zombie for you’ by Dead Man’s Bones, which is why in my head this whole thing is somehow a lot less dark than it actually is, I guess. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing except my dirty imagination and also, no one is paying me any money for this. All characters belong to their creators

Derek was breathing heavily and sweat streamed down his neck and face when he leaned against the back wall of a building that used to be a drug store. Now it was only another ruin filled with broken glass and toppled over shelves everywhere. If they had stumbled over this place a bit earlier things might have been a bit different. If they’d had better medical supply when Jackson broke his ankle or Allison cut her side open while they were running from another hungry horde of friends turned into zombies, maybe Stiles wouldn’t have… Derek growled and slammed his fist against the wall. Stupid, loyal Stiles who always put himself in danger to save his friends. But there was no use for what if’s and what not’s. Not anymore. Derek turned around and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Scott’s lifeless body being mauled by Lydia, Jackson and Danny. It had taken six of those rotten bastards to bring the young werewolf down, but even though Scott kept fighting until the bitter end and even though his body would heal this was something not even a werewolf was immune to. Derek had tried to help him, but he was busy on his own, shooting zombie heads here and there and everywhere but when he heard Scott’s agonizing scream as Danny jammed his teeth deeply into his calve the older werewolf knew it was too late. The only thing that was left to do for him was shoot Scott in the head before he would get up and join the league of undead that was tireless stumbling and crawling through the country.

The sound of flesh being ripped apart and bones cracking together with the constant groaning and gurgling noises out of another five to ten zombie throats made Derek’s stomach lurch and he had to bite his lips, piercing them with his fangs, as he battled the urge to vomit right here and there. There was no time for that. Not now. He was trapped and he was alone. His eyes scanned the scene in front of him. His only way out was fighting his way through the oncoming group of brain-eaters. Great. Wonderful. He tucked the gun that once used to belong to Sheriff Stilinski into his belt and gripped the bloody baseball bat a little tighter. With a push he let go of the wall and stood up to his full height, fangs bared and eyes glowing red. Not that it impressed his enemies a bit. Their brains were nothing more but rotting lumps inside their equally rotting skulls and all they cared for was flesh and even more human flesh.

Derek took a deep breath and steadied himself. Okay, to his left there were Boyd and Allison, slightly behind them another kid from the former lacrosse team and the one that shuffled behind that kid was probably Stiles’ former chemistry teacher, although it was hard to tell. Someone seemed to have eaten of three quarters of his face, leaving behind only bloody bones and shredded flesh. Turning to his right Derek saw Isaac and Erica, closely followed by what seemed to be a former store clerk. The clerk-zombie was missing his left foot and ankle and when he tried to walk over a shelf in his way, he stumbled and fell face forward to the ground. Not that this diminished his ambitions at crawling forward. When the zombie fell another one popped up behind him and waltzed over his struggling body and Derek’s breath hitched. He didn’t need to look at the dead pale face with blank eyes and pieces of skin falling apart to know who it was. He would recognize those sneakers and the slightly too big Star Wars shirt everywhere. And most of all, underneath all the stench of dead and decay there was still a tiny little hint of Stiles left. An agonized growl escaped Derek’s lips as Stiles’ dead body took over the lead and stumbled determined in his direction. The teenager groaned loudly, the only noise his rotting throat was capable of doing anymore and bared his black teeth, covered in blood and whatnot.

Derek had hoped it would not come this, had tried to avoid thinking about it as soon as they had to leave Stiles bitten body behind but now it seemed like he couldn’t do that any longer. And it ripped him apart. When Stiles had been bitten trying to save Allison and Jackson, _in vain!_ , Derek thought bitterly, his inner wolf had howled agonizingly when his mate was taken from him. The pain had been overwhelming and Derek had to thank Scott for pulling his sorry ass out of there otherwise he would have followed suit Stiles’ example. Back then he already knew the best thing would have been to shoot Stiles in the head before he would come back as a flesh-eating corpse, and it would only be a matter of time until he would be faced with the walking dead remnant of his former mate again, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it back then. It was Stiles! Stupid, obnoxious, babbling Stiles, who was the most annoying and most amazing person Derek had ever met. He could feel his claws sinking into his palm as he looked at zombie-Stiles. He was still a couple of feet away from Derek and didn’t seem to care that his right arm was barely hanging on to his shoulder joint. His dead gaze was fixated on Derek as he trotted on, no hint of recognition in his dead white eyes.

Derek took the gun from his belt and slowly lifted it. His aim was steady and despite his exhaustion his arm didn’t tremble a bit. His instincts were still working after all, and no matter how painful it was to see Stiles like this Derek knew there was no other choice left. Not anymore. A wrecked sob shook the werewolf’s body and a single growl, drenched in pain and sadness and loss and _love_ broke the silence and formed a single word: “ _Stiles!_ ”

Derek’s features smoothed back into his human form as he made a step forward to his former mate. Their eyes locked for a moment and suddenly something flickered behind those white orbs. Stiles blinked and halted for a second. He blinked again, looked to the floor and looked up again. Everything around Derek seemed to fade out, the noise of the other zombies, the rapid beating of his own heart, and the sound of Scott being torn apart. This couldn’t be, he was imagining things. It was his stupid brain playing a horrible trick on him. Derek wanted to break eye contact to be able to finally shoot the bullet but then Stiles opened his mouth and a garbled sound came out of his throat. When Derek didn’t react at first, Stiles groaned as if he was frustrated and repeated the noise.

“Drrr..ek!”

The werewolf’s eyes began to widen and his hand began to shake violently so he had to take the gun down. From the corner of his eyes he could see the other corpses inching closer and closer by the second, but all that mattered now was Stiles, who started to move again and kept repeating that sound, his name, again and again.

“Stiles! _Stiles!!_ ”

Derek nearly choked on the words, suddenly not being able to breathe properly anymore. The teenager moaned and came to a halt again. His blinked again and looked right into Dereks eyes. Then his view flickered over to Derek’s side where he still held the gun in his hand.

“Drr..ek” he repeated, glanced to the gun again and then back up.

“Plea…se”

“No. No, no, no. I can’t Stiles. Not… not like this!” Derek howled and shook his head.

Zombie-Stiles just stared at him, following his every movements with his dead eyes and repeated:

“Plea… se”

He tilted his head to the side and for a second it looked like Stiles was smiling. A soft, fond smile, that only Derek really ever got from him. Then something seemed to shift in his expression and Derek could practically see how Stiles’ eyes slowly turned blank again, the last bit of recognition as well as the last hint of Stiles’ scent fading for good.   
Derek only hesitated for a split second, then he lifted the gun and as the dead body of Stiles came stumbling towards him, mouth wide open and groaning like a wounded animal, Derek pulled the trigger. When the bullet hit the dead teenager’s head and made his body fall backwards to the ground Derek didn’t look back, just gripped the baseball bat tight and lifted it high above his head as he stormed forwards.

 

 

 

The end.

 

 

 


End file.
